


Leave With A Smile For Everybody

by barelydwarven



Series: Good Things Happen Bingo [4]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: "Everybody Lives", Escaping back to a Bad place, Fallen Hero spoilers, Good Things Happen Bingo, Other, Party, Sad, the Farm, upsetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 11:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18387629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barelydwarven/pseuds/barelydwarven
Summary: Sidestep manages to keep everyone alive somehow, some way, and decide that enough is enough - it's time to go "home".(This is potentially very upsetting as the MC leaves a good caring place for an unforgiving and cruel place known to treat them badly. The good part is only the fact that everyone else is safe and sound.)Prompt 4/25 of the Good Things Happen Bingo. Music: Tim Hecker.





	Leave With A Smile For Everybody

The evening has been long and loud. Champagne foam mustaches and beer stains on shirts. Home-cooked meals from Elena, restaurant ordered delicacies from Herald, store-bought snacks from Argent. A surprising collection of music, unearthed from somewhere deep inside of Chen's attic.

  
You drift from one table to the next, slightly delirious from all the familiar worn out faces. A stupid smile crinkles your mouth, tongue slightly numb from chatting.  
You startle Boris with a pat on the back, congratulate him on his sixth week sober - even when standing next to the bar, his mind resists the temptation. You reach your thoughts out to softly praise him, making him straighten up and smile even brighter than before. Good, he deserves it.

  
Tip-toeing through the crowd, you make it next to Mortum, all engrossed in scientific talk with a slightly flustered Herald. It's obvious that all the grand words are flying right over the Golden Boy's head and that he's hopelessly infatuated with the dear Doctor. The Doctor, on the other hand, understands that she's overwhelming Daniel but still slows down after meeting your eyes.

  
An unexpected hug as you pull Mortum close, whispering heartfelt gratitudes into her ear,  planting two fleeting kisses on her neck. You let the Doctor go, turning around to face a beet-red Daniel. Squeezing him into a vise-like bear hug, you applaud him for all he has accomplished in the past years. And just as quickly you let him go, stunned.

  
You scan the yard with a honed mind, mapping all the thoughts dear to you - there's not much time left. At best half an hour. Silver solid arms grab your waist, startling your instincts to high-alert. But it's just Argent. A warm friend. You take her hands and raise them to your cheeks. A crude _"you are fucking awesome"_ is shouted and echoed back, although with a rather confused smirk. Let the rough, smooth hands drop. Still, people to see. Or not, the clock is ticking.

  
You step in the middle of the party, bodies swarming around you, music beating evenly through your bones. Happy smiles and relieved sighs. Good smells of honey and sugar, spice and citrus. You notice Ortega and Chen at the stereo system, nervously glancing at you, radiating a jumpy giddiness and elated sense of happiness. Eager for something, tiny pillows, and surprising cakes? It doesn't make any sense but you're glad both are happy.

  
Everyone survived. Survived all the stupid things you did. And the abominably cruel things the Farm did. And the suffocating betrayals the government brought. You got them through it all, carefully reassembled the fragments and breathed life into the emptiness.

  
Closing your eyes, you concentrate everything good you've felt, ball it up in the middle of your lungs. Every stray ray of sunshine, every nice word you've stumbled upon, every innocent smile. You gather it all up and... Flood it out, touching every mind, blanketing it with hope and happiness. They all deserve it.

  
Feeling a little tired, you sneak out, a bit wobbly, a bit drunk. When the bus comes, you climb on, pressing an impressive banknote into the driver's palm. Keep the change, you laugh. Dropping into a creaking seat, you pull out your phone. Swiping your thumb over a picture of you and the Rangers, you stab in a familiar number.

  
Weird, you think. It's calling now. Shouldn't you feel anxious? No? Doesn't matter. Soon they answer. _"Yes? Who is it?"_

  
A smile, a tear, the rumbling of a tired bus. _"This is unit 412. I'm coming back. Back home."_


End file.
